First I was born blue
to a woman wailing
on all fours like a wolf
drug in and drugged up
on a sterile cot
just before the doctor
shoved me back inside
to unwrap the birth cord
from my neck so I
came out again pink
screaming to thaw
my little throat out
and sputter
Hello to the pack
of mothers that raised me
while they sniff
my cheeks
snouts pushing
hair out of my eyes
There you are they greet
then continue howling
over coffee steam
nearly domesticated
beasts one might think
of their lady-paws
clutching cream pitchers
easy to forget
tucked beneath
their coral lips
are teeth.

Shelby Handler is a writer and educator living on Duwamish territory/Seattle, WA. They are a 2020 Richard Hugo House fellow and incoming MFA candidate at the University of Washington. Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poetry Northwest, PANK, Sugar House Review, The Journal, Gigantic Sequins, among others. Follow them @shelbeleh.